


The Torture of Small Talk With Someone You Use to Love

by muchofeels



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Chaptered, Comfort, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Lots of Angst, M/M, Smut, Smut Eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4265346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchofeels/pseuds/muchofeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fight, Frank and Gerard are left to their memories. Mikey plays therapist, Pete tangles everyone in metaphors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Torture of Small Talk With Someone You Use to Love

**Author's Note:**

> @ grandma, thanks for helping me with ideas bc writers block.

Frank walked into the booth and smiled a bit to himself as he saw the familiar redhead hunched over in a chair, scribbling out words onto a sheet of paper.

He set his jacket on the back of a chair and sat down as well. “Mikey and Ray got stuck in traffic. They won’t be here for a while.”

Gee nodded. “Is it raining out there?”

“Like hell, actually. How’d you know?”

He reached out and ruffled his hair, water droplets running off his fingers as he pulled it back. He laughed a bit. “Because your hair is soaked. Haven’t you ever heard of umbrellas or hey, I hear they’ve been putting these things called hoods of the back of jackets for a while now.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “So you working on a song, Mr. Lyricist?”

“Yeah, you’re actually just the man I wanted to see. I got some things here and I was wondering if you could put some music to it? You've always had a better ear than me for that sort of stuff.”

The younger man grabbed his guitar and strummed out a beat that had been in his head for days.

Gerard was nodding his head and then he began to sway, eyes closed. He then began to hum until the humming turned into words.

“ _You believe in love, I believe in faith. They’ll believe in anything _-” He looked up, the sound of the guitar had stopped.__

“What?” He questioned.

Frank had gotten to his feet and was leaning his guitar against the wall carefully. For a moment he stood with his back to the other male. When he’d inhaled and exhaled enough, he turned slowly and said, “Is this about us?”

“What- What do you mean?”

“That’s what you said to me.”

Gerard was wearing some dumb look that Frank really wished he could wipe off of his face.

“Summer of ‘97.” He said, surprised he found his voice buried beneath all that hurt. “We took that canoe out on the river.”

“How do you even remember that?”

“We were looking at the stars and I told you I loved you. You said, ‘I don’t believe in love, I believe in faith.’ And I said, ‘What’s the difference?’”

He couldn’t look up and that’s what killed Frank.

“Was that all I was to you? All I am? A song lyric?”

“Frank, where is this coming from? You that isn’t true. You know how much you mean to me. You-”

“No, not when we’re home. When we’re on tour, sure. Sure, maybe I can believe that.”

Now it was Gerard’s turn to stand. He moved so his body was almost flush against the younger man’s.

He dropped his voice. “Frank,” He began. “I- I won’t lie, you _know_ that we can’t have more than that.”

The shorter of the pair dropped his eyes and then quickly returned them to Gerard’s. The hurt in his eyes- Gerard could almost feel it.

He leaned in to kiss him, their breathe was mingling and their lips just barely touching when Frank turned his head away.

The rejection was nothing short of a slap to the face for Gerard and he yanked back like someone had pulled him.

“W-Why are you _acting_ like this?”

“You have the audacity to ask _me_ why I’m acting like this?”

He looked down and huffed. “We have wives.”

“And you think they don’t know?”

“You told her? You told Jamia?”

Frank laughed bitterly and rolled his eyes. “I wish, but no. _She_ told _me_.”

Gerard shook his head, denial dripping off his being. “No, it doesn’t matter who knows. We are _not_ coming out with this. There isn’t anything to come out about.”

“Oh there’s nothing to come out about, _pretty boy_? Yeah I guess you’re right since the statute of limitations ran out a few years back.”

Gerard jerked his head up like he’d heard gun shots. “You can’t be serious!” He spat.

“But I am!” Frank replied with just as much venom.

Like boxers in a ring they squared off, their words acting as punches.

Gerard inhaled slowly, doing his best to keep from shouting. “I- I know you were young.” He admitted. “But we were-”

“In love? Is that what you were gonna say? Better not be because that’ll just be another one of your contradictory statements.”

The older man took a step forward, holding his hand out. “Frank, I-”

“No. Stop it. You’re a hypocrite and a liar. I never should have trusted you. I was _fifteen_ , Gerard, I was a year younger than your brother, and I thought the sun rose for you.”

While Gerard was silent, Frank turned like he was going to pick up his guitar, then he turned. “And ya know what’s just as bad as that? You pulled our fans into this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you don’t know what you do? When we’re up there you throw me around like your boytoy. All those kisses and that sexual tension? It _feeds_ them. It feeds us and whatever this is and you know it.”

Gerard didn’t have an answer. What could he say? Frank was right after all.

The silence between the two of them was deafening. It seemed like neither of them would speak again. Until Frank inhaled.

“You need to find a new guitarist.”

It was said so calmly, so matter-of-factly said. Gerard couldn’t process what he’d just heard.

“What did you just say?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“I’ll leave it up to you. Find a new guitarist or… something else.”

“How do you expect me to chose?”

Frank turned the knob and stepped out. “You’ve never really had a problem with choosing between two things in the past. I expect you’ll be fine.”

And without even looking back, he left.

For a moment, time stood still. Earth itself stopped rotating, taking all sounds, sights, and smells with it.

And then it hit him.

He kept pushing things down further and further. But like a volcano, all those repressed feelings were beginning to explode. Every emotion he  
pretended wasn’t there was now demanding to be felt and it _hurt_.

Like a toddler throwing a tantrum, he acted out in rage.

The mic stand was his first victim- he kicked it to the ground and stomped on it a few times. His notebook he wrote lyrics in was reduced to a pile of ripped clippings. He torn his beanie off halfway through his rampage and it was now laying a corner.

He couldn’t help it- he was tearing at his clothes and yanking hair out. Goldish white clumps were falling to the floor and strands were stuck in between his fingers.

That glass window was looking a little too pristine in the ruins of the recording booth, so Gerard picked up the nearest object to hurl it at it.

He then realised what he was touching. The chair Frank had set his jacket on not even thirty minutes ago.

Gerard dropped the chair, jacket still clenched in his fists, he dropped too.

He sat on the ground with his face buried in the article of clothing which still smelled faintly of Frank’s cologne.

He didn’t hear the door open or notice his brother standing in the doorway.

Mikey’s eyes raked over the room, scanning it from left to right and taking in all the damage. They then landed on the most broken thing in the room. His brother.

He walked closer. “Gee.” He said quietly.

No response.

“ _Gee_.” He stressed more as he knelt down.

Again, no response.

Mikey reached out and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Gerard.”

He looked up, eyes red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears.

It was then that he knew that Frank had given him an ultimatum. “So what was it?” He questioned.

Gerard could only stare.

“Did he ask you to chose him?”

“You knew?” He whispered almost inaudibly.

Mikey helped his brother to his feet.

“Of course I knew. Everybody knew.”

The older Way looked down at the jacket still being held in his hands. “How could I chose him?”

Mikey smiled sadly. “How could you not?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know, probably more than anyone, how long this has been going on. Do you really think I don’t know about all the times he snuck out of my room to be with you when he stayed over? Do you think I don’t know about that night in the canoe?”

Again, Gerard was at a loss for words.

“Big brother, you seem to forget that before that was Frank and Gee, there was Mikey and Frank.”

He looked around the room, at the jacket, then to his brother. “I can’t do it.”

“Gee, love denied is love lost.”

Gerard looked up at his baby brother. “Does that make me a loser?”


End file.
